


Nocturne II/Genoa III

by Thimblerig



Series: The Lion and the Serpent [19]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Period-Typical Medicine, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5929048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thimblerig/pseuds/Thimblerig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"You are an inferior sort of devil."</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nocturne II/Genoa III

**Author's Note:**

> This probably makes little sense without first reading Genoa I and II (they aren't long).
> 
> Thanks for reading!

 The crystal phial collected every drop of the little candle’s light, collected it and threw it back out from all its cuts and edges into the shadows of the little room.

"What is it? Not more medicine, Monsignor Incubus?”

The girl lay in her grand bed propped limply on a pile of pillows and bolsters. Always somewhat pale, flaxen-haired and colourless, this night she was near as white as the sheet.

"A jewel fell from Lucifer's crown,” Aramis said, face half hidden in the shadows. "I found it, green in the grass, and collected the dew.”

She looked relieved. “Not that I want to seem ungrateful,” she added hurriedly.  “It is just that they bled me today and I feel so very tired. It is very pretty. Did you bring it for me to admire?”

“Well I am very clever,” he said thoughtfully, disappearing the vial into his sleeve. “And handsome, and witty, and -” 

“Vain,” she added, smiling.

“Maybe I came to eat you all up!” And he gnashed his teeth.

She giggled.

“Does that please you?” he asked, watching her eyes brighten.

“Nobody much wants me,” she said softly.

“Oh, but Contessina,” he purred, looming over her, “we both know that isn't true.”

Very calmly, she signed a cross in the air and he stepped back, shaking his head ruefully.

“Another round to you,” he said, sighing. “Shall I avaunt and trouble you no more?” 

“You give up so easily,” she said crossing her arms over her narrow chest. “Where is your follow-through, monsignor?”

“Yes, Margherita, I'll try to do a better job of damning you next time.

“See that you do,” she said, frowning, but spoiled her grim visage by asking,  “But don't go just yet, it's been so long. Please, tell me, where have you been about? Have you been harrying and skarrying?”

“Ah, where have I not been? I have misled the feet of poor travellers, and entangled the rigging of ships in this very harbour. I beguiled a poor old priest and charmed three lovely ladies. I met a queen with a crown of flames, she didn't think much of me it's true -”

“Oh, pooh!” the girl cried. “I don't like her now.”

“I think she would like you, though, so gracious she is and with excellent taste. Would you like to meet her? I could put you on my back and carry you off out the window if you liked. It would be a grand adventure.”

Her eyes shone a moment and then dimmed. “ _Vade retro_ , Simara,” she said softly.

“That’s not what I -” He sighed and stepped back a bare half step. Folding his hands he asked her formally, “And you, Contessina? Have you had many adventures of your own? Fine lovers, two or three?”

“No, none,” she replied.

“No love gifts? No perfumed gloves or lacy handkerchiefs to remember someone by?”

She shook her head sadly. The ends of her cropped hair rustled over her shoulders.

“I think you might really mean that,” he said thoughtfully. “And yet, you sicken again. Then it's settled,” he declared, producing the crystal phial from his black sleeve and tossing it into her lap. “I have no apples to comfort you, only a little bright water, but you shall have it. No, don't thank me,” he added airily, “I had no idea what to do with it. ”

Her hands curled protectively over the bottle. “I shouldn't take it, I know, but… why do you do this?” she asked suddenly.  

“Walk in darkness?” he asked. “I was very wicked. I must have been, surely.” He smiled crookedly. “What punishments of God are not gifts?” he quipped.

“Indeed,” she answered, in a voice of serenity. “I understand that.”

He eyed her sternly. “Not _you_ ,” he said with force. “You have done nothing to deserve this. _Nothing_.”

“That is not how it works, devil.”

“A pox on Him.”

“That is still not how it works.” She gazed at him solemnly. "You are an inferior sort of devil, for you see, I feel so close to God now."

"Then live, sweetling," he said, and smiled so that narrow grooves showed in his cheeks. "Live that I may have another chance at you."

She touched his wrist. "Don't be lonely, devil."  Her eyes rolled up in her head, then, as she threw herself back into a fit. He set his hand on her forehead and rubbed his thumb lightly between her brows as she trembled.

Never good at waiting, was Aramis.

**Author's Note:**

> A jewel fell from Lucifer's crown - Wacky period Grail lore. I tells ya, Dan Brown did not even begin to tap the weirdness attributed to that bloody cup.
> 
> Contessina - ‘little countess’ 
> 
> “What punishments of God are not gifts?” - Stephen Colbert, quoting J R R Tolkien, ref. here: http://www.gq.com/story/stephen-colbert-gq-cover-story and http://www.wordonfire.org/resources/article/stephen-colbert-jrr-tolkien-john-henry-newman-and-the-providence-of-god/4904/
> 
> Vade retro, Simara - a variant of the old “step back, Satan” line. In Twenty Years After, Bazin calls Aramis ‘Simara’ and says it's the name of a devil. (He was in a mood at the time.)


End file.
